


Scratching The Itch

by Llaeyro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Bottom Draco, Dry Orgasm, Established Relationship, Humiliation, M/M, Rough Sex, Spanking, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8136425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llaeyro/pseuds/Llaeyro
Summary: Written for LDWS Round 8's week 5 prompt: "Malfoy was screaming and holding Harry so tightly it hurt." in between 250 and 300 words.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [LJ](http://llaeyro.livejournal.com/55439.html)

Harry’s hand was in my hair, pulling back sharply, my own hands braced against the headboard as he fucked me frantically. Sometimes, his other hand came down hard against my arse or hip and I cried out, pushing back onto his cock desperately, like the eager whore he kept telling me I was.

I came like that, untouched, as he fucked me, spanked me and called me a liar. I writhed so much from the force of it after such a prolonged build up that I wrenched free from his grip, my arms and legs unable to hold me up any longer. He grumbled at the inconvenience, as if I were selfish or purposely difficult, as he shoved and tugged me onto my back. I cried out when he slid back in, thumbs digging into the backs of my knees as he bent me in half. A constant litany of moans leaving my lips as he resumed his brutal pace, panting into my face this time. I was too delirious with sensation, pain edging with the pleasure, over-sensitised nerves begging for reprieve even as my traitorous cock tried to harden once more. His taunts couldn’t reach me anymore, save for the occasional word.

“Deserve… Need… Fuck… Mine.”

My body convulsed again, a pathetic dribble forced from the tip of my cock as my empty body was wracked with another orgasm.. A scream tore from my throat, fingers and heels digging into flesh wherever I could reach, relief and distress and exhaustion and so much _pleasure_ overwhelming me.

He held me for a long time as I shook, sobbing incoherently. He stroked my hair and whispered apologies in my ear, promising never again.

I know that, eventually, he’ll stop fighting against what I need.

After all, I can be very persuasive.


End file.
